Story I:
“licked by life”
Sometimes we don’t agree with the people we love. Personally, I find it especially difficult when I don’t agree with or have the same beliefs as my immediate family. Those from whom I directly descend.
I imagine a family tree in this way – one branch of this tree represents you and your immediate family, while the trunk and roots are your more distant ancestors, those who are rooted deep in the earth so as to hold firm the entire structure. The tree’s many branches grow and they multiply and they reach from its ancient base, out in many directions, high into the sky. Into tomorrow and beyond, continuing to reach. Along those many branches lie our extended relatives, our “not direct” relations – those connected only distantly by blood and DNA, but with whom we nevertheless share a trunk and roots as well as, possibly, defining characteristics. It takes work, but it is worth it to unearth these distant relatives’ stories.
We are lucky that these days we have access to many historical newspaper collections from around the world. So many of them have now been digitized and made available to the general public online. I have been addicted to these collections for years now and if you have never taken a look at them then I highly suggest you do. It is a fun way to pass some time at the least, but at the most you may find some truly monumental and life transforming information about a distant relative you have never heard of before.
When researching your past I recommend that you take the road less traveled. Get away from linear paths of thought, straight lines directing you where to go. Veer off the main trail. Get away from your immediate family on that one branch and trace new branches away from your roots and trunk in different directions. Get lost in those many other branches. It takes a lot of time and patience to research and learn about every brother and sister of every ancestor that you possess. Most people wouldn’t think they have time for this within the context of their whirling and twirling lives. I recommend finding at least some time. Even fifteen minutes. Go online to newspapers.com or chroniclingamerica.loc.gov or see if your local library has a digitized newspaper collection. I just provided you two links. Click one and search for your past. Enter a first and last name, along with a place the person lived, then hit search, lean back and wait to see what presents itself. It’s fun. Like playing the slot machines only with nothing to loose and more to gain, frankly, than any monetary wealth could ever guarantee. Finding out who you are. And even if you don’t find those who you seek right away, keep typing and hitting enter and remember, though you may not always find a specific mention of your loved one, you can at least learn much about the times and places in which they lived. What they lived through. What they experienced.
I will never forget the first time that I discovered my paternal great, great grandfather Walter’s eldest brother William Benjamin. I don’t know if I found him or he found me. Actually, what I believe is that it was mutual desire. William is my third great uncle and I look forward to sharing more of this man’s story with you in the future. For now, I just wish to point out that I feel an affinity for, and connection with, this distant uncle. Some have said that I resemble him. That we share some of the same creative instincts. I have even sought out, met, and grown to love some of his descendants. One relative I met was told by their psychic that, “Will is near.” I wonder if he is me?
Last year I wrote a story and shared my thoughts on how I choose to treat other people. As this story made clear, I will always, always take the side of the fragile and the damaged. The oppressed. This stance is not shared by many members of my immediate family and that reality hurts. And then one day, searching through newspapers, I found mention of my maternal great grandmother Gudrun’s brother, Bertel Egebak Christensen or “Bert” as he was called. Gudrun and Bert came to America in August of 1903 from the northern tip of Denmark, a place called Hjørring. I looked closer, focused and began to read. What I found still makes me cry. It was a letter to the editor that Bert wrote to his local newspaper back in September of 1960 followed by another written in March of 1962.
Just as I have, he shared his thoughts on the oppressed and, further, he seemed to share my exact sentiments. What a connection! I instantly felt a kinship with him. A love. And a feeling that I must find out more about him. I must find his descendants. Maybe what Will is to me, Bert will become too? Really, though, I need know nothing more about his character. All I need is what is contained in these letters to the editor. Like I said, we don’t always agree with those from whom we directly descend, but sometimes one little connection can make up for multiple lacks of connection that have ended in disappointment. I sit and smile.
The Bert E. and Emma Cecilia Christensen Family
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